


Things That Weren't Your Fault

by orphan_account



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Comfort, Emma and Julie are only mentioned briefly, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Night Terrors, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, The abuse memories are not that explicit but they are integral to the plot, Triggers, im projecting all over this weeb and theres nothing you can do about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:35:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21962959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: READ THE TAGS FOR CONTENT WARNINGS.Written mostly as a vent fic because I'm trying to work through some shit. :))))Otacon is reminded of his past traumas, and Snake is the only one around who can offer comfort. But does a trained killer know what to do when faced with something like this?
Relationships: Otacon/Solid Snake
Comments: 2
Kudos: 59





	1. Night

It was the first time they’d ever slept in the same room.

Snake had insisted on taking the couch, and he was already fast asleep, chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm. Otacon had never seen him look so calm… it was almost strange. Even so, he realised what a great deal of respect he was being afforded in the current moment. Snake’s life had always been one of distrust and danger, so the mere fact he trusted the scrawny nerd to be around him while he slept was nothing to scoff at. He, on the other hand…

Well, there had been a reason he’d waited for the soldier to fall asleep first.

Otacon trusted Snake with his life, he really did, and he was certain the man wouldn’t do anything to hurt him on this brisk winter night, but at the same time he hadn’t been able to fall asleep around anyone else for many years. Even through the long overtime nights at ArmsTech when other coworkers had napped at their desks, he could never bring himself to do it. That was part of the reason why his desk was always filled with stashes of instant coffee packets and caffeine pills. He simply refused to let the past repeat itself.

All it would take is someone to do something, and he wouldn’t have the strength to fight back. He’d let it happen again, and again, and again, until eventually he felt like it was normal and his fault to begin with. It would be some kind of twisted Stockholm Syndrome. Just like before. Just like…

The memory of his stepmother felt like a knife twisting in his gut. He couldn’t even bring himself to think her name, as if it were the vilest of curse words. He felt the painful, fiery heat of embarrassment creep through him and realised at once that he needed to distract himself, or there would be no hope of him sleeping at all.

Otacon decided to look around the room, some back alley hotel situation they were holed up in for the night. A desk where his laptop sat, still propped open. A window that looked out over the neon lights of the bustling district. A bedside table with a lamp and an old alarm clock that clearly hadn’t been replaced for years, as he could remember having the same model in his room when he was a teenager. A couch, where Snake lay.

Snake. Otacon’s heart fluttered in his chest a little. These feelings were new and confusing, so he liked to do his best to ignore them in the vague hope they would dissipate. That sort of thing just didn’t seem like it would ever be in the cards for someone like himself. Besides, he couldn’t trust his heart. His heart had told him that Wolf really cared about him even when his brain was screaming that he was just being used. His heart had told him that that was what love was supposed to feel like. Just as it had with-

No. He couldn’t let the memory sneak up on him a second time. 

He turned back to look at the alarm clock, hand reaching out to trace over the buttons he knew well. He’d had one of these when he still lived with Emma. How he missed her, wished he’d been given a proper chance to say goodbye. They’d gotten along so well - she’d always asked to play with him when she was a child, and even when he’d been busy working on the computer in his bedroom he’d never had the heart to say no. Otacon wondered what she was doing right now, if she ever thought about those fond childhood moments as well. He admittedly missed being a big brother, someone who had a kind of respect. Nowadays, he just felt like an awkward burden to most people.

But that was by the by.

He set the alarm to go off for the next morning, and lay down amongst the soft blankets. It was safe to go to sleep now.


	2. Day

Daybreak crept in through the window, illuminating the spot where Otacon lay, though he did not yet stir. 

Snake, who had been up for about an hour at this point, silently emerged from the ensuite bathroom and closed the door, trying his hardest not to wake the sleeping man across from him. His eyes briefly travelled over the surprisingly lithe form of his work partner curled up in the blankets, and came to rest on his face. He’d never seen Otacon without his glasses on before, and the sight struck him as unusual, but not unwelcome. He looked peaceful as he slept. Snake, not wanting to stare, turned away and busied himself with turning on the coffee machine and packing things into their bags, making sure to be extra careful with the laptop... he’d never hear the end of it if he broke it, after all.

Otacon let out a half-snore where he lay, blissfully unaware of the waking world. Despite his worrying the night before, sleep had come to him rather easily. Somewhere distant in his mind, he suddenly heard a sound he’d heard many times in the past - a simple melody, one that signalled routine, normality, the smell of breakfast, life in his old home. The alarm reached his ears, but he didn’t fully stir immediately. 

Gradually, the warm feelings turned darker, sourer. 

Memories of waking up, naked and ashamed. The twisting knife of guilt. The feeling of someone leaving his side with a cold laugh. He recalled the first time it had ever happened. He’d woken in the middle of the night to an unwanted voice, an unwanted touch, yet he still allowed it to happen, paralysed by fear. By now his body in the present, still detached from his mind stuck in the past, was tossing and turning, sweating profusely, whimpering. Snake noticed. 

Otacon couldn’t tell whether the hands grabbing his shoulders were real or all part of this twisted flashback, and he awoke violently with a scream, pushing his accostor away.

‘DON’T TOUCH ME!’

The blurry vision of Snake recoiling in surprise was what greeted him first.

‘Sorry, you were just-’

The soldier’s response fell on deaf ears. The only thing Otacon could still hear was that damned melody mocking him like the cackle of a cruel witch, and he found himself covering his ears, unable to catch his breath. 

Snake, guessing what the cause of this strange behaviour might be, leaned over and hit the alarm’s button. Otacon slowly lowered his hands, finally coming to his senses fully, his panting breaths giving way to vocalised gasps that gave way to heavy sobs. He was racked with embarrassment and still feeling vulnerable, but he couldn’t stop himself from crying now, the hot tears rolling down his cheeks. 

He felt stupid about having such an episode in front of his best friend. 

He felt stupid about even having an episode in the first place. 

Most of all, he felt stupid about the person he once was.

He had no way of knowing what it was all about, but somehow Snake still understood. He’d seen similar reactions before, seen people he once fought alongside break down at the sound of July fireworks, people who’d once battled for their lives faint at the sight of blood. He sat down on the bed and carefully reached out to Otacon’s hand, squeezing it firmly when he felt no semblance of resistance.

‘Hal, look at me. Deep breaths.’

The shaking man could better make out Snake’s face now that he was closer, and clung to his hand like it was a lifeline. His words came out as hiccups as he tried to steady himself.

‘S-Sna-S-Snake-’

‘Shh. Breathe first. Hold onto me if you need to.’

Otacon gripped Snake’s upper arm with his free hand, and found himself pulled into a strong embrace. He was greeted with the familiar, steadying scent of aftershave and tobacco, and his breathing at last began to steady out when a gravelly voice whispered in his ear.

‘Nothing here can hurt you. Nobody’s coming to get you right now. I’d break their arms if they tried.’

‘I’m so sorry… I’m weak… I...’

The soldier pulled away from the hug to grab his friend’s glasses and offer them to him. Otacon dried his eyes with the back of his hand before putting them on, feeling reassured the second Snake’s face shifted into a clearer vision. He’d never seen him look so concerned for his well-being, which didn’t help with the lingering pang of guilt. Snake sighed and continued.

‘Don’t apologise. It happens to the best of us.’

‘B-but I, I’m sorry for pushing you, I thought… thought you were s-someone…’

‘You don’t need to explain.’

That suddenly made him feel a bit better. He had been dreading explaining to Snake why he’d woken up like this, and hearing that he didn’t need to justify himself was a weight off his shoulders.

Snake stood up and went to pour two coffees from the machine, movements slow and purposeful as his partner was still coming out of flashback shock. He knew how his friend liked it, black with two sugars.

‘You… you don’t have to do that.’

‘I want to.’

At that comment, Otacon blushed a little. Snake sat back down beside him, putting both drinks on the side table. Noticing his work partner was now perking up (despite being a little less willing to make eye contact), he pulled the man into another tight hug, mumbling in that signature low voice.

‘It’s ok now.’

‘Thank you, Snake.’


End file.
